


I'll Wear Out the Words I Love You

by Werelibrarian



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 09:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16972308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werelibrarian/pseuds/Werelibrarian
Summary: There was a special bond between cousins who were born in the same year. In the Nelson clan, Foggy had Mitch. Mitch was the one who screamed down the house when Foggy fell into the pool, aged four. He was the one who collared Foggy at their thirteenth Christmas and told him what to do if he got within kissing distance of someone cute. He was the one who had counted his pennies during his HVAC apprenticeship to buy enormous flats of cheap beer, and drove ninety minutes to drop half of it off at Foggy's dorm at Columbia.And he was going to get a Hell's Kitchen special right in the jaw if he didn't stop cock-blocking Foggy, family tradition or not.





	I'll Wear Out the Words I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for tumblr user blogyblogblog

There was a special bond between cousins who were born in the same year. In the Nelson clan, Foggy had Mitch. Mitch was the one who screamed down the house when Foggy fell into the pool, aged four. He was the one who collared Foggy at their thirteenth Christmas and told him what to do if he got within kissing distance of someone cute. He was the one who had counted his pennies during his HVAC apprenticeship to buy enormous flats of cheap beer, and drove ninety minutes to drop half of it off at Foggy's dorm at Columbia.

And he was going to get a Hell's Kitchen special right in the jaw if he didn't stop cock-blocking Foggy, family tradition or not.

"I'm putting my foot down, Bipper," Mitch said, crossing his arms in the middle of Foggy's bachelor party. Across the room, Foggy saw Jessica Jones latch onto the nickname with her PI superpowers, and he pointed a warning finger at her. She shot him a glance that said, quite clearly, "I'll forget it for now, but you owe me."

"The wedding's a week away, dingus," Foggy yelled, "you can't make Matt move out for a week!"

"You've talked to Matt every day since college. You work with him. You live with him! Don't you want to see him coming up the aisle and go, 'look at him, look how perfect he is, and wow, he's here to marry me'?"

"I'm going to think that anyway, you don't have to force me to miss him beforehand!"

"It's a tradition! Sergeant, back me up here."

Brett, a drink in each hand and a cocktail umbrella tucked over his ear, shook his head sombrely. "Mitch, the lesson not to get between Nelson and Murdock was a thorny path for me. You're on your own."

"Fine." He turned back to Foggy. "My mom did it for your mom and I'm doing it for you."

"And if I fight you?"

"Then the story about the thing with the firecracker and the spray cheese and Aunt Helen's poodle will feature heavily in my best man speech." Foggy balled up his fists, and Mitch grinned.

So Matt packed a bag.

"I understand," he sighed theatrically, "it's a Nelson thing, and I wanna fit in, don't I?" He sighed again.

Foggy buried his head in his hands. Matt tapped over to him, poked him in the eye a few times trying to find his face, and kissed him wistfully. "Goodbye, my love."

"You could be enjoying this a little less," Foggy hissed into the kiss.

"I really couldn't", Matt snickered back.

"Okay, break it up, boys. Luke's downstairs in the car." Over Matt's shoulder, Mitch's face was manfully stoic, but he was getting all big-eyed and sad.

"I love you," Foggy wobbled. He clung on to Matt's hand, and their fingers trailed apart sadly as Mitch actually steered Matt away by the shoulders.

"You're not fooling me," Mitch said, ushering Matt out the door, "I went to all of your theatre camp plays, remember?"

"You're a dingus!" Foggy yelled.

For five days, Mitch slept on Matt's side of the bed while Matt phoned him from one of Danny Rand's guest rooms to say goodnight (Foggy didn't believe his sad noises too much; there was chatter in the neighbourhood that a green and yellow blur had joined the more familiar red and black one–the jerks were totally boys-night-outting it). For five days, Foggy worked at the Columbia law library and stared longingly at all the secluded stacks he could be luring Matt into if only Mitch weren't sitting next to him designing some sort of giant airduct fan. For five days, every ping or buzz from Foggy's phone was met by Mitch's suspicious "who's that?"

"It's work! I'm a goddamn lawyer! I have clients!" Foggy had yelled, thumbing away a picture of Matt being licked by Kate Bishop's dog.

On the sixth night, Foggy couldn't sleep. It was perfectly human to be anxious the night before a wedding, and it wasn't like he didn't want to be married to Matt. He just needed a little bit of Matt's fervent belief that he could get through anything, a little bit of Daredevil's willingness to leap. Next to him, Mitch snored.

Foggy padded to the living room and opened a window; the sounds of the city made him feel less alone. He sat down on the couch and heard. Someone.

Whoever it was, its steps were silent, and it made the couch dip as it crawled over him. It was black-masked; its lips were crimson and wicked.

"Is this a dream?" Foggy asked, tracing his face.

"Yes," the figure said, and kissed him. "It's just a dream."

Foggy clung to his shoulders and let himself be pressed down into the cushions. "I've missed you."

"Missed who?" A white flash of a smirk.

Foggy pushed the mask off. "You. I know who you are, Matt."

"I love you," Matt said, simply.

"I know," Foggy said, sure of it and still somehow completely afraid. "Don't stand me up tomorrow."

"Foggy, I promise. I'll be there."

"Something's going to go wrong, I can feel it."

"Nothing's going to happen. I _will_ be there."

"Promise?"

Matt kissed his tense forehead, his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. "I, Matthew Michael Murdock," he whispered, as he stroked Foggy's hair, "take thee Franklin Percy Nelson–"

"Yuck," Foggy said.

"To be my husband," Matt continued softly, "and I promise, in the sight of God, to be thy loving and faithful husband; in plenty and in want," he swept away Foggy's tears and kissed his eyelids, "in joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health; as long as we both shall live."

Matt's smile was soft and graceful and undeniable as a sunrise, and Foggy pressed a relieved kiss to the palm resting on his cheek.

"I, Franklin unfortunate-middle-name Nelson," Foggy said, wobbly-voiced, "take you, Matthew Murdock, aka Daredevil, aka the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, aka what was that red blur–"

"Huh?" Matt said.

"To be my husband, to have and to hold, in blunt force trauma and in protecting the city one day at a time." Matt inhaled in surprise. "For cases we win together and for leaving me by myself in restaurants, until waking up next to you stops being the best part of my day, or death takes me."

Matt's eyes were wet. "I don't deserve you."

"No one does, I'm a joy and a delight," Foggy said lightly. Matt laughed softly and bent his head down. They kissed, lazily, like untroubled young lovers, until Matt pulled back.

"I should go," he said, "Mitch is waking up."

"Mitch is a dingus."

"He's your family." He kissed Foggy again, swung one leg out the window and shot a cable to the roof of an adjacent building.

"You know about my bad memory, right?" Foggy burst out, as Matt was about to swing away.

"Your what?" Foggy could see the disbelieving eyebrow even through the mask. They'd once, watched by an entire bar, challenged each other to recite sections of the Criminal Code with the forfeit that the first one to slip up had to walk home in their underwear. Around 1 a.m., a jury of their peers (drunk) ruled that they were bored with the quiz and directed the bailiff (bartender) to take away both their pants.

"Brain like a sieve, you know. So, I might forget everything you said earlier."

Matt leaned back through the window for another kiss. "Then I'll tell you again tomorrow, and every day after that, until it sticks."


End file.
